the line. “Richard, I’d know your tone anywhere.”
Kane breathed heavily, remembering his time with her only a few months ago when he was recruiting. The only language she spoke was the dollar bill—or euro. She was worth every cent.
“Collette, my dear. How’s Vienna?”
“Very productive. And on your end?”
Kane dispensed with the niceties. “Time’s short, Collette. I have to know whether Gerrit will be a team player. Everything is set to be launched in just a few weeks. Maybe sooner. I need him on board when we launch—or terminated if he chooses to walk away. Understand?”
“I understand, Richard.”
“Good. Gerrit just reached the hotel. He’s in play. Are your people ready?”
“We will be when I hang up.
Au revoir
, Richard.”
Kane killed the connection.
Gerrit reached James Stafford’s room, trying to knock twice in quick succession. Stafford yanked the door open before Gerrit could strike a second time.
“Grab a chair.” James quickly closed the door behind Gerrit.
The room was sparse, compared to Clarke’s, but even so it gleamed with elegance. After Gerrit sat down, James dragged a chair across the room and turned it around so he could straddle it. “Let’s get down to brass tacks, as you Yanks are apt to say. We don’t need an American telling us how to protect Clarke. So…why are you here?”
“You know why I’m here.”
“Hang it, man. I know when George Lawton is behind something; it’s never what it seems. I don’t want to get shot—or fail in my duties to protect Clarke—because you and your CIA spooks are up to no-good, keeping us in the dark. Tell me what you’re up to or I’ll bounce you off this detail.”
“I thought the British were more tactful. And what makes you think I work for the CIA?”
Stafford glared at him without answering.
“By the way, don’t you work for Lawton?”
“I work for a lot of people,” he said, ignoring any further reference to the CIA, as if it was already understood.
“What did Lawton tell you?” Gerrit knew he was buying time. He tried to figure how to handle this without making another enemy. Clarke was enough to deal with right now.
“Never mind about him. I want to hear it from you.”
“Just stay focused on Clarke and you’ll be in the clear. That’s all I can tell you.”
Stafford shoved himself off the chair. “I knew it. Lawton’s got his hands into something else and using this as cover.”
“I’d let it alone. Better if you just do what you’re told…just like me.”
“Playing the good soldier, eh? Could get you killed in this business.”
“So could riding in a car. But we do it anyway.”
“A car only gets you and other passengers dead. This business can kill a lot more people. Particularly when you don’t know what you’re up against.”
“You have to trust the ones you’re working with.”
Stafford sneered. “What kind of world are you living in? In my business, I trust no one. That’s how I stay alive.”
Gerrit eased himself from the chair. Trust was a word he rarely used. It had been a long time since he thought of trusting anyone. The older he got, the less trust he had in people. James hit it on the head. Trust no one.
Particularly men like Richard Kane.
“I’m not an idiot,” Gerrit said. “I imagine we’ve both worked on the dark side, taking chances and doing things for God and country that others never hear about. I know the cost of doing business. We’ve both paid that price. So, let’s get about our business and trust that everything turns out all right.”
Stafford grimaced. “This is not some fairy tale, O’Rourke. People get hurt. People die. That’s just the way things are.”
Gerrit strode to the door. “At times good people die and bad people survive. It’s our job to try to even the score. Just do your job and stay out of my way. See you downstairs.”
He slammed the door behind him, knowing that he was on his own. The story of his life in
Kane breathed heavily, remembering his time with her only a few months ago when he was recruiting. The only language she spoke was the dollar bill—or euro. She was worth every cent.
“Collette, my dear. How’s Vienna?”
“Very productive. And on your end?”
Kane dispensed with the niceties. “Time’s short, Collette. I have to know whether Gerrit will be a team player. Everything is set to be launched in just a few weeks. Maybe sooner. I need him on board when we launch—or terminated if he chooses to walk away. Understand?”
“I understand, Richard.”
“Good. Gerrit just reached the hotel. He’s in play. Are your people ready?”
“We will be when I hang up.
Au revoir
, Richard.”
Kane killed the connection.
Gerrit reached James Stafford’s room, trying to knock twice in quick succession. Stafford yanked the door open before Gerrit could strike a second time.
“Grab a chair.” James quickly closed the door behind Gerrit.
The room was sparse, compared to Clarke’s, but even so it gleamed with elegance. After Gerrit sat down, James dragged a chair across the room and turned it around so he could straddle it. “Let’s get down to brass tacks, as you Yanks are apt to say. We don’t need an American telling us how to protect Clarke. So…why are you here?”
“You know why I’m here.”
“Hang it, man. I know when George Lawton is behind something; it’s never what it seems. I don’t want to get shot—or fail in my duties to protect Clarke—because you and your CIA spooks are up to no-good, keeping us in the dark. Tell me what you’re up to or I’ll bounce you off this detail.”
“I thought the British were more tactful. And what makes you think I work for the CIA?”
Stafford glared at him without answering.
“By the way, don’t you work for Lawton?”
“I work for a lot of people,” he said, ignoring any further reference to the CIA, as if it was already understood.
“What did Lawton tell you?” Gerrit knew he was buying time. He tried to figure how to handle this without making another enemy. Clarke was enough to deal with right now.
“Never mind about him. I want to hear it from you.”
“Just stay focused on Clarke and you’ll be in the clear. That’s all I can tell you.”
Stafford shoved himself off the chair. “I knew it. Lawton’s got his hands into something else and using this as cover.”
“I’d let it alone. Better if you just do what you’re told…just like me.”
“Playing the good soldier, eh? Could get you killed in this business.”
“So could riding in a car. But we do it anyway.”
“A car only gets you and other passengers dead. This business can kill a lot more people. Particularly when you don’t know what you’re up against.”
“You have to trust the ones you’re working with.”
Stafford sneered. “What kind of world are you living in? In my business, I trust no one. That’s how I stay alive.”
Gerrit eased himself from the chair. Trust was a word he rarely used. It had been a long time since he thought of trusting anyone. The older he got, the less trust he had in people. James hit it on the head. Trust no one.
Particularly men like Richard Kane.
“I’m not an idiot,” Gerrit said. “I imagine we’ve both worked on the dark side, taking chances and doing things for God and country that others never hear about. I know the cost of doing business. We’ve both paid that price. So, let’s get about our business and trust that everything turns out all right.”
Stafford grimaced. “This is not some fairy tale, O’Rourke. People get hurt. People die. That’s just the way things are.”
Gerrit strode to the door. “At times good people die and bad people survive. It’s our job to try to even the score. Just do your job and stay out of my way. See you downstairs.”
He slammed the door behind him, knowing that he was on his own. The story of his life in
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